


What is Childish Longing but the greatest Focus

by Kayuri



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: A person turns into a bug, Body Horror, Family Bonding, Gen, Soul is a weird substance and it has weird uses, What is childish longing but the strongest focus, born of rampaging ideas, it's a gift, it's painful, not canon compliant to the original fic, said process traumatizes class 1-A, they will very much accept their bug-ified friend though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayuri/pseuds/Kayuri
Summary: Shouto never really felt at home amongst Humans.
Relationships: Grimm & Todoroki Shouto, Todoroki Shouto & Grimmchild
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	What is Childish Longing but the greatest Focus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EverlastinglyEngross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlastinglyEngross/gifts).



> A Gift for my friend EverlastinglyEngross! She knows I was gonna write this. Body horror is my jam, and stories like these are my guilty pleasure, tbh. Shouto already dislikes Endeavor in the original fic, and here this is taken a fair bit further thanks to some wacky Soul-fueled shenanigans.

It started small, really. His battle (show, his mind whispered) with the Troupe Master, and Bakugou’s comment that he fought like a bug. It made his gut churn, but not in a bad way. Shouto rarely thought about it, but the way his life went was not how he liked it to go. It was stifling, and he was… jumpy. He knew that. That battle though… The fire of the Troupe Master was gentle, enveloping in a way so reminiscent of finally coming home after being absent for ages. Bakugou saying he fought like a bug and not a human had the same effect. A small smile graced Shouto’s lips at the thought of the words, and one hand travelled to his chest, resting above his heart. He would treasure those memories.

* * *

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Intellectually Shouto knew that he was human. Intellectually he also knew that Endeavor was everything but a good father. Emotionally he knew the latter even more, had he lived through the sorry excuse for training after all. He had taken to wandering the campus of UA at some point to calm down, and the quiet coos of the Grimmchild at his side were calming as well. A few times already he had stumbled across some statues already, old, and strangely out of place in the otherwise impeccable area. Ridges ran along the exterior of it, the form vaguely reminiscent of the Pale King. It took him a while to find out what those things were, but eventually Shouto did stumble upon the answer. A Soul Totem. Ancient relics of a civilization even older than the bug’s, filled to the brim with energy that animated their bodies. It made him wonder how these survived the remodelling of the White Palace. He took to wandering to these statues to calm down, hands running over the warm body of the Grimmchild while leaning against the ridged surface. He failed to notice the soft glow of the statue’s eyes and the white particles of Soul that rose up and dissipated around him.

* * *

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At some point Shouto had started to wander more. He liked his classmates, really, but there was only so much time you could spend with them before it became too much, and he cherished the quiet and peace he could get around the Soul Totem, with only the Grimmchild for company. The tiny grub always seemed to notice when he needed time for himself and pulled him to those statues. It made him smile. That in turn made the Grimmchild coo more and more. At some point it had taken to wrapping every single one of its tiny wings around Shouto’s chest while making noises very similar to purring. He liked it, it made him feel warmer inside, and lulled him to sleep to boot. Finally, during one of his visits to the Soul Totem, he did fall asleep, one arm held protectively over the Grimmchild, the other limp across the ground. All the while, a soft, white glow surrounded him and the Totem before dying down. Despite his unplanned nap being on the hard ground, it was one of the best naps he had in a while. When he ended up wandering back to class in a daze, wondering if maybe their teacher had the right idea about the sleeping bag, he missed that the glow of the Totem’s eyes had fully disappeared.

* * *

  
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Lately, his joints had been creaking more. Personally, Shouto didn’t notice it for a while, wrapped up as he was in school, and with landing in foster care with the Troupe. When he noticed, it coincided with the startling discovery of him being skinnier than before. It worried him, especially because he was eating more, almost ravenously so. Sure, he was active, but it shouldn’t have been to the extent that he became almost reedy in physique. His inspection in front of the nearest mirror yielded few things he could celebrate about. His joints were strangely prominent, his skin looked paler than usual, and he was thin. He could however, with no small amount of relief, say that at least his ribs weren’t showing. The quiet coos of his charge ripped him out of his whirling thoughts, replacing his worry about his body with the worry of caring for a child. Not that he minded that overmuch.

* * *

  
\-------------------------------------------___________________________-----------------------------------------------  
Aizawa worried over Shouto. The boy always has been a problem child, but ever since the Sports Festival it became worse. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the boy was absentminded, wandered off a lot, and was getting thinner. Granted, he didn’t have much of a leg up on the boy in terms of taking excellent care of his own body, but he worried nonetheless. There were times he though that Shouto’s skin looked almost waxy, not like skin should look. He knew that suddenly being taken out of an abusive home always was a big change and that it wasn’t always smooth sailing, far from it in most cases. But that the boy changed that much? It made him queasy. Maybe he needed to take a closer look at the child.

* * *

  
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It was slow going, but still noticeable, Shouto mused one day, fingers trailing over his cheeks while standing in front of the mirror. His limbs were almost stick-like these days, at least his legs were, and his mouth resembled mandibles more than teeth and lips these days. The thought made him snort a bit as he sat down. There was no denying it, he was becoming less human. He glanced to the door, before rolling up the legs of his trousers. Stick thin legs greeted him, joints sticking out like sore thumbs. The skin had become darker over time, and if he was honest, it didn’t feel like skin anymore. It was not longer soft and squishy, instead hard and unyielding, a matte sheen over it. He had no doubt that, if he would show this to others, especially Holly and Mina, they would recognize it in a matter of moments. A hoarse laugh escaped him as he flopped over on his bed, legs stretched and laid bare, socks torn off. Shouto Todoroki wasn’t going to be human much longer. The small claws at the end of his legs were proof of that.

* * *

  
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Shouto’s skin felt less than comfortable most of the time now. His face was pale, almost white, his mouth an almost nightmarish combination of lips and teeth and mandibles. His eyes had a barely noticeable sheen that resembled the facetted eyes of insects, and the tips of his fingers had gotten ever sharper. Rumours were flying, some said it was a latent quirk, others muttered about crossbreeds, others again of experiments, few about a curse spoken by the Troupe Master, and even fewer, mostly Holly and Mina, eyed the Soul Totems before looking at Shouto again. Shouto, who had taken to wearing long sleeved clothes when out of school, Grimmchild always near and crooning in his ears, and with a grin just a step too sharp and wild. It was Izuku who ended up suggesting that maybe Shouto had finally found a place where he felt fully comfortable, and now that that had happened, something else got set in motion. Little was fully known about the ritual of the Troupe, and even less about the effects it could have on humans after all. Mina pitched in her theory as well, pointing to the Soul Totems before murmuring that few beings could actually use the substance stored, and that there were stories of bugs mutating after overexposure to it. The class fell silent after hearing that, before tentatively asking if it would mean that Shouto might come to harm. Aizawa, having listened until that moment, ended up sighing, followed by tiredly saying that he’d keep an eye on the boy, more than he was already doing. It calmed the class down somewhat, but they kept their eyes on Shouto anyways. Shouto continued on, grins wild and sharp, skin becoming ever harder and more unyielding.  
\-------------------------------------------___________________________------------------------------

* * *

\-----------------  
Grimm had noticed the change in Shouto almost the second it started. Soul had a thrum to it he would hardly miss, never mind that Shouto lived under his proverbial roof. It amused him greatly, and yet it made him worry. Shouto was not a Higher Being and thus should be unable to use or interact with Soul properly, but somehow it was happening nonetheless. His scarlet eyes roamed over the form of the boy currently standing in the middle of the arena, whirling around like a mad dervish, fire and ice trailing in his wake. Skin like carapace coated legs and torso, was creeping up the arms and neck. It made Grimm simultaneously proud and sad to see the boy renounce what he used to be. As he leaned against the support of the tents to watch, Shouto unleashed a wave of fire, more scarlet than orange, and in the haze of the air he could see how the boy’s hands turned into something else. It made him sad, but he could admit he would readily welcome Shouto into his family. That was what the Troupe always was supposed to be after all. A Family. After a moment he stepped into the arena as well, licks of flame dancing along his fingers, joining Shouto’s in their dance.

* * *

  
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He had called in sick for the week, intrinsically knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stand going to UA. His gut feeling proved to be right, as he could barely move when he woke up. Everything ached, he was feeling too warm for his comfort, and his head was basically killing him. His sight was blurry at best. Distantly he could hear the Grimmchild frantically fluttering above him, before zooming off to get someone else. Who, he couldn’t tell, but he was soothed when a cold but comforting hand ran over his head, carefully threading through his hair. A soft groan escaped him as he moved a bit to lean into the touch, nerves immediately on fire. A moment later soft but hoarse crooning reached his ears, sounding so much like the Grimmchild’s but older. Shouto had to admit that he didn’t really understand High Bug yet, but the sounds made him feel a bit better. He wasn’t alone, not really. Someone was here. His thin frame began to shake as mute sobs of relief tore free.

* * *

  
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The process was long and painful, and the end of it was almost anticlimactic in a sense. Grimm had sat by his bedside the entire time he was too weak to even move, pain stronger than anything he ever felt ravaging his body. The sweet nothings the Troupe Master had whispered had become clearer and clearer over time, until Shouto could understand the words even through the haze. Now, over three days after he first woke up in pain, he could finally open his eyes without immediately screaming himself hoarse, and he could feel the tension leave his body. Was it over then? He shakily lifted one hand into his field of vision, and almost started crying in relief at the sight. Black. Shiny, gleaming, black carapace. He carefully pushed himself up, looking himself over, still shaking. It was all over, his legs thin but strong, with spikes at the back of his calves, the feet small pads with hooked claws where the toes would have been. His torso had an interlocking pattern of carapace plating, progressively getting lighter at the top, with a light reddish sheen to it. He couldn’t see his face, but he was sure it resembled the masks worn by the troupe, and he could feel the mandibles at work, small movement caused by excitement. A hoarse chuckle ripped him out of his inspection, and as he whirled around, he saw Grimm leaning against the entrance to his room.

* * *

  
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“It seems the fire of change burnt out.” The Troupe Master’s voice was as hoarse as ever, a note of amusement clearly audible despite that. “Fire… of change?” Shouto startled a bit at the sound of his own voice. It was hoarse as well, but not nearly to the extent of Grimm’s own. A slight buzzing sound accompanied it as well. “Indeed,” Grimm nodded, before sitting down next to Shouto. “Tell me, Shouto, do you know what Soul is?” “It’s what makes bugs… alive, right?” “It is the life force, yes. It animates us bugs, and is the thing that makes us differ from common insects. Manipulating it however requires Focus. An ability usually reserved for Higher Beings, gods if you will.” Grimm looked at Shouto at that, making sure the boy understood. After he got a nod, he continued. “You, Shouto, managed it regardless of that. You found one of the remaining Soul Totems of the Palace, didn’t you?” “I… yes.” Shouto admitted, and he could feel how his mandibles moved, followed by the peculiar feeling of antennae following. “No need to be ashamed. It is remarkable, really. Those Totems are well hidden, and absorbing, never mind using the Soul they store is a feat rarely achieved.” A small smile graced the Troupe Master’s voice. “Colour me impressed.” A wink followed the statement, which made Shouto giggle a bit. “Really? I… I never noticed. I just… I wanted to be one of you, you know?” Shouto fiddled a bit with the blanket on his bed. “And not just as the human tag-along… I never really felt comfortable as a human, I always had that shadow of being a Todoroki looming. All things bug made me happy though.” “That would explain it, then.” Grimm hummed. “What is longing, from the bottom of your heart, but the strongest Focus there is?” He glanced over at Shouto, before carefully drawing the young bug into his arms. “You always were a part of us, Shouto. Even as a human. You becoming one of us is, admittedly, a wonderful thing, but you should know that we would gladly have you amongst us even without you being a bug.” He squeezed Shouto again, before getting up from the bed. “Come. I think you might want to see how you look in full.”  
  


* * *

  
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The next week held surprises for class 1-A. After almost an entire week’s absence, Shouto was supposed to come into class again. They waited with held breath, wanting to see what happened to their classmate. When the crooning noises of the Grimmchild became audible, everyone looked at the entrance to the room. In the doorframe stood a bug, with thin limbs, almost translucent wings on their back, and a slightly dorky grin on their face. After a moment, they looked up from feeding fire to the grub lying on their shoulder and waved. “I’m back.” The voice was hoarse, but it was undeniably Shouto. For a moment, everything was silent. “I guess I owe an explanation, don’t I?” “YOU SURE DO!” And there was Bakugou’s screaming.


End file.
